


You in the End

by shingekinoboyfriends



Series: Call it Off [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Lots of sexual tension, M/M, angst angst angst, daichi is a total boob, it's so corny and so awful and they're so married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shingekinoboyfriends/pseuds/shingekinoboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before graduation, Daichi gets it in his head that he won't make it through the night without hearing the sound of Suga's voice - and so, despite knowing he really shouldn't, and despite knowing he'll hurt him for doing it, he makes the call anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You in the End

**Author's Note:**

> i originally intended this to be for daisuga week day 4/5, "post-graduation + first time," but i'm slow and of course i didn't write it in time for any of this to be relevant. oh well - volleydads are taking over my life and if you think about it, me writing daisuga was inevitable. ( ᵒ̴̶̷̤̀ुωᵒ̴̶̷̤́ू )❤”

The amount of “first times” people have in their lives is remarkable. There’s a first for everything – a baby’s first step, a first job, a first sip of coffee, a first word of a sentence of a paragraph of a novel. And it’s usually the _firsts_ that people become fixated on, because it’s the concept of a _last_ that is repulsive to human nature. Endings are always the hardest.

 

Daichi remembers that as he lays in bed, rolling over to face the wall the night before graduation. It’s late – he should be sleeping, but he can’t find it in himself to close his eyes.

 

He’s in denial.

 

It’s a long time before he has the guts to pick up his cell and make the call, something he’s been trying to talk himself out of doing for the past hour; the phone screen’s light illuminates his face, and as he flicks through his list of contacts, the movement of his nimble fingers against the glass face casts shadows on his skin, over his eyes.

 

_Sugawara Koushi._

 

His thumb hovers over the small telephone icon for a moment before he pushes it, pressing the phone immediately to his ear and waiting for something, anything but the dial tone.

 

The clock on his bedside table reads just past one in the morning and _god, there’s no way he’ll will be up this late, there’s no way, there’s no way–_

 

A click sounds. Some fumbling. A cough, the clearing of a throat, and then: “Daichi?”

 

He surprises himself when, with a sigh of relief, the name _Koushi_ sounds in the air like a breath leaving his lips. As soon as the word spills from his mouth, he bites his tongue – _that was wrong, that was wrong, stop it now_ – but just as he’s about to correct himself, Sugawara laughs breathlessly, completely unfazed.

 

“It’s late.” The voice coming through the receiver is tired, and it sounds as though the call woke him; Daichi is stricken with a sudden guilt, because he really shouldn’t have called. There was no reason for it, he shouldn’t have done it, and if it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have – but for some inexplicable reason, it was as though he _needed_ to hear the sound of Sugawara’s voice.

 

“I’m sorry,” Daichi chokes out. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

 

There’s a lull between them; he can hear Suga’s deep, even breathing through the phone and before he says anything, Daichi thinks that he might have fallen asleep.

 

The setter suddenly clicks his tongue, breaking the silence.

 

“Are you nervous?” he asks quietly.

 

And it’s clear that he doesn’t need to clarify what he means, because Daichi already knows. They both do – and maybe it’s because, even though Sugawara has always been the one to calm him, to keep a level head, to keep him tied down to the ground – well, maybe he was nervous, too.

 

“A little,” Daichi admits.

 

A deep breath, and then, “Yeah.”

 

“I’m nervous about…” he starts again, but when he thinks of what to say, he can’t think of anything else but to tell the truth. “Um, about what comes after.”

 

Sugawara doesn’t say anything for a moment; perhaps he’s weighing it out in his head, whether to show his weakness tonight or to save it for later. In the end, his strength wins, and there’s nothing but a soft sound of agreement on the other end.

 

Daichi sighs.

 

“Different colleges,” he continues. “We’re not… we’re not going to be right around the corner anymore.”

 

“Come over,” Sugawara blurts suddenly, and the sudden intake of breath that sounds after his words is almost regretful – but in the quiet that follows, when it might not have been too late to take back the offer, Daichi is certain that the offer stands.

 

His eyes blink open and he sits up in bed. “Right now?”

 

“Um, it’s really late,” Sugawara huffs, “we both should be sleeping, but… it might help.”

 

 _It might,_ Daichi thinks – and in his head, the words echo.

 

* * *

 

Walking to Sugawara’s house doesn’t take long. This isn’t the first time he’s been there, and he prays it won’t be the last; his feet chart the sidewalks, winding down side streets and down alleys he’s gone in the daytime, in mornings when they would both walk to school together… or on nights that felt like these.

 

Only tonight, the air is so thick he nearly chokes.

 

When he reaches the front door, Daichi doesn’t knock. Instead, he sends a quick text and sits heavily on the porch steps, waiting for him like a dog. He feels a bit like one that’s been kicked – or maybe that’s just how it feels, like a punch to the gut, when your head’s underwater and you can feel yourself drowning.

 

Behind him, the sound of the screen door creaking open startles Daichi and he looks up, just to be certain that it’s not Sugawara’s parents. It’s not – the moonlight reflects off silver hair and shines in those familiar hazel eyes, and he knows it’s not.

 

“Hey,” Suga greets him softly. He’s wearing his pajamas, a pair of cotton flannel pants and a t-shirt printed with the kanji for _Karasuno High_. His bare feet pad across the entryway and stop when they reach the steps, where he takes a seat beside Daichi and pulls his legs up against his chest. “It’s really nice out tonight.”

 

“Sorry for bothering you,” Daichi starts instinctively, turning away. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, or call you out of your house–”

 

“Daichi,” Sugawara says, cutting him off, and before he has the chance to look up at him, Suga places a gentle hand on his. “Stop apologizing, I don’t mind.”

 

But his hand lingers too long, and Daichi notices. When he catches Sugawara’s eyes, they go wide and he shrinks back, letting go of Daichi and wrapping his arms around himself.

 

“We can’t,” is all Daichi says.

 

The darkness is so still.

 

“I know.”

 

The words sound pained as they leave Suga’s lips and Daichi sighs, leaning back and looking up at the night sky.

 

“I wish we had another year,” he murmurs, though it’s not really intended for anyone else to hear but himself; the words have been waiting in the back of his throat for months, since the school year began last April. As he speaks, the weight in his chest lessens, but the growing knot in his gut simultaneously tightens and it’s hard for him to keep going.

 

He does anyway.

 

“Not because of volleyball, and not because I wish I didn’t have to go to college – it’s just, you know.” He doesn’t know what he means, not really. He pauses, running a hand through his short black hair and feeling nervous, as though under some unseen spotlight. “I don’t want to regret leaving you guys.”

 

 _I don’t want to regret leaving you,_ is what he wants to say – but he’s already said too much, so he doesn’t allow himself to hurt Sugawara any more.

 

“I understand,” he says slowly, leaning his chin on top of his knees. “This has been the best year of my life – and moving on seems like a risk that we’re being forced to take.” Daichi nods. _He’s right._ “But it’s life. And, you’re going to a great school with a scholarship to keep playing volleyball, and I’m… I’ll be here, taking classes at the community school.”

 

Daichi can’t look at him – hearing the words is hard enough.

 

“But whenever you have time to visit, if you’re not busy – although knowing you, I’m sure you will be.” Suga laughs, but it’s hollow. “I’ll be here.”

 

“You can’t wait around for me,” Daichi finally says.

 

Sugawara smiles at him, and even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, he does it anyway. “I know.” Daichi is about to say something in response, but he words are cut off before he has the chance. “You set these rules for me – for us – that I know I’m supposed to follow but… sometimes it’s hard, you know?”

 

A moment passes between them before anything more is said, but when it’s broken, it’s Sugawara again.

 

“I’m trying,” he mumbles, and turns his head away. Daichi can’t see his eyes. “I’m really trying.”

 

There’s a breeze that blows in the air, and with it comes a memory. It’s the same feeling as the chill that passes, only it’s different. It’s a pair of lips that part, a mouth that tastes of wintermint and honey, of lips that are cold from the air around them, of silver hair at the tips of Daichi’s fingers. Suddenly, there’s longing – but there’s nothing that can be done about it because it’s already over before it has the chance to begin.

 

 _Koushi._ He thinks the name in his mind and wishes he could say it for Suga, wishes that all of these ends would stop unraveling so he might be able to tie them back together.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sugawara says, but his words are muffled against his arm. “I was supposed to help cheer you up, but I’m making it worse.”

 

Daichi tries to laugh, but it doesn’t sound right. Not like it used to, not like when Suga would set the ball incorrectly and they’d laugh about it, or when Hinata and Kageyama would bicker and fight and they’d share a smile and laugh quietly, knowing. It’s not the same as when Suga’s hands would trail down his sides and he’d laugh because _you know I’m ticklish there, Koushi, stop teasing me._

 

He hates this. He hates it so much that his blood boils, like it’s on fire and he knows he’s sitting too close to the gasoline, but he can’t bring himself to move.

 

They sit in silence for a long while before Daichi stands, and with heavy footsteps, he makes his way back home.

 

* * *

 

The morning of graduation, Sugawara shows up at his door wearing his graduation uniform which looks pressed, with polished shoes and a soft smile on his lips. He hasn’t forgotten about the night before – neither of them have – but they try and pretend it never happened, anyway.

 

On the way to school, they don’t talk about how tired they are. Instead, they talk about meeting up with Asahi, and Sugawara mentions that the kids from the team will all be there to see them graduate. He worries aloud, what if he gets in line wrong, what if he trips on stage when accepting his diploma, what if–

 

But Daichi stops him, assures him it will all be fine. With a gentle nod, Sugawara’s petty uncertainties slip away.

 

The ceremony is held in the gymnasium, and when they line up together, Suga is only a few heads behind him. Daichi swears he can feel eyes on the back of his neck – but then again, maybe it’s just wishful thinking. Asahi is near the front of the line and when the doors open, he flashes the two of them a smile over his shoulder, a quick thumbs up, before turning back around and walking in through the threshold.

 

There’s cheering, so much cheering. Above it all though, Daichi swears he can hear the cries of Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Hinata. Their whooping and hollering sounds just above the rest of the crowd, calling out the names of their three mentors and whistling with pinkies at the corners of their lips.

 

And even though he knows it’s the end, Daichi smiles.

 

The ceremony doesn’t last very long, though the heat of the gymnasium makes it feel endless. He sits in a folding chair that’s stationed near one of the net holdings imbedded in the floor, where he’d set up so many volleyball practices and worked so hard with his teammates. Their blood, sweat, and tears are all here in this gym, and when they all stand at the end to be announced as _Karasuno High’s Class of 2014,_ Daichi closes his eyes for the briefest of moments to take it all in.

 

There’s cheering again, but all Daichi can hear is the echo of tennis shoes against the slick wood floor.

 

* * *

 

“You three are amazing,” Tanaka says, wiping the snot from his nose.

 

“It won’t feel the same without you next year,” Nishinoya adds, and his hands reach up to clutch at the sleeves of Asahi’s jacket. Hinata stands behind them, wiping tears from his own cheeks while Kageyama rolls his eyes, but hands him a tissue regardless.

 

“We’ll miss you all,” Sugawara tells them as Hinata goes in for a hug. He laughs, and for a few moments, he looks the way Daichi wants to remember him: kind, comforting, and with a look of happiness in his eyes. “I’ll see you around for practices on mornings I don’t have school, so don’t think you’ve see the last of me!”

 

“Same here,” Asahi flushes, patting the boy in his arms on the back with a grin. “We’ll be around – and I’m sure you’ll all hear from Daichi when he takes his new team to the top.”

 

It’s then that all eyes fall on Daichi, and at once, he straightens. They’re waiting for confirmation, a promise that this isn’t the end, and even though it certainly feels like it – despite the reassurance from his fellow upperclassmen – Daichi finds himself nodding in agreement.

 

“Of course,” he says, and with a whoop, Hinata leaps into the air.

 

Suddenly, there’s a tap on Daichi’s shoulder. He’s expecting his mother or father, or perhaps his coach or club manager – but he doesn’t quite expect Michimiya Yui, head of the girl’s volleyball club, to be standing there behind him. Her arms are full of flowers and just behind her are a few first and second-year volleyball players from her own team.

 

“Congratulations, Daichi,” she grins.

 

Without thinking, he opens his arms and tucks her inside them for a hug; they’ve been friends since before he could remember, and it’s a relief to see her here, graduating alongside him, and with her own group there to support her. She falls into his arms, careful not to crush the flowers, and when she pulls away, her face is immediately serious.

 

“I’m having a graduation party tonight,” she tells him, “and if you don’t come, I’ll never forgive you.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Daichi laughs. “Can my team come, too?”

 

“What do you think?” she deadpans, and when her eyes scan the small crowd around them, it’s Sugawara’s smile that cracks her grave demeanor. “Of course, you all are more than welcome to come.”

 

“Even us?” Hinata asks, motioning to Kageyama and himself – to which the dark-haired boy thwacks him upside the head, scolding him for being so forward.

 

“Sure,” she laughs. Her eyes dart back to Daichi’s face and when she sees him smiling down at her, she sticks her tongue out. “So don’t be a jerk and just _come,_ alright?”

 

With a final look at his friends, just to be certain that they are all in agreement, he finds his answer. With a firm nod, he turns back to her and replies, “We’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

In retrospect, and if Daichi had somehow known that things would eventually turn out like this, he wouldn’t have come. He wouldn’t have walked across town, wouldn’t have convinced himself that tonight could be a nice break from the troubles and worries constantly clouding his mind, wouldn’t have found himself sitting in a circle playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with the entire volleyball club.

 

The more Daichi studies the crowded circle, the more he finds that there are more people than he had first realized sitting in the round; there are familiar faces, of course, but many can’t be placed with a name. Not that he has a problem with it, because in actuality, Daichi is a well-liked guy. He’s friendly, even a bit outgoing – but then again, to be the captain of an entire team, you have to be.

 

It just feels strange, is all.

 

And it’s probably because, directly across the circle from him, sits none other than Sugawara Koushi.

 

He keeps avoiding Daichi’s eyes; whenever their gazes meet, even if only for an instant, he makes sure to look away, to laugh at something Tanaka says or focus instead on the bottle spinning in the middle of the circle.

 

Hinata’s spinning beside Suga, and as if by fate, they all watch as it lands on Kageyama. He shouts something about not having wanted to play this stupid game in the first place and all the girls laugh, but as soon as Hinata drags him off the ground and closes the closet door behind them at the end of the hall, the laughter fades.

 

“Kageyama is such a ‘lil bitch,” Nishinoya comments offhandedly, “but I’d be surprised if they don’t try and stretch those seven minutes into ten.”

 

Asahi blushes when Noya leans his head onto his shoulder, the smaller boy’s laughter fizzing out until he’s still, and Daichi wonders if he’s able to do this because he’s not worried about Asahi moving away anytime soon. He can be comfortable with the older boy because even though he’s graduated, he won’t be leaving his side.

 

There’s guilt that pangs in Daichi’s stomach. Volleyball was what caused him to sign with the college of his choice, despite it being located so many miles away from home – away from Suga.

 

Michimiya’s in charge of the timer; once it goes off, she yells down the hallway to the boys that their seven minutes are up. After returning to the circle, it takes a whole minute more before the two emerge with burning faces from the closet, reclaiming their places once again while trying to ignore the knowing looks on everyone’s faces.

 

“Alright, Suga,” Michimiya instructs suddenly. “Your turn to spin.”

 

 _There’s a lot of people,_ Daichi thinks. _The chances of the bottle landing on me are slim to none._ But even knowing this, there’s a dull ache, a feeling inside him that’s almost desperate, willing the bottle to land on him. And he’s not sure if it’s because he secretly wants it, or if it’s simply because he doesn’t want Sugawara to go in that closet with anyone else but him.

 

 _You can’t think like that,_ he reminds himself, and as Suga’s hand finds the bottle, he looks away. _You can’t push him away and be jealous when he moves on._

 

He can hear it spinning. There’s a quiet that falls when everyone focuses on its rotation, echoing against the hardwood floor as it goes around and around.

 

Circling, circling, circling – one, two, three, four, until it slows and slows and with finality, comes to a stop.

 

There’s a quiet murmur. _It’s not you,_ Daichi laments. _It’s not you, it won’t be you, it can’t_ _be you…_

 

But when he finally summons the strength to look, it’s not the bottle he focuses on. It’s Sugawara, and the way his eyes are fixed solely on him. There’s something there, behind the soft smile that he offers – there’s hurt in his eyes.

 

The bottle’s open end is regrettably pointed at Daichi.

 

“Oh!” Hinata spurts suddenly, arching forward toward the bottle with wide eyes. “Of course, the captain!”

 

“‘Of course?’” Kageyama grunts. “What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Sugawara,” Michimiya starts, leaning across the circle to him, “you can spin again if you want.”

 

He waves her off, says something about how it’s fine, that he and Daichi have been in trickier situations before, and he stands at once, lifting himself off the ground and wiping his hands on the fronts of his pant legs.

 

“Come on, Daichi,” Suga says lightly, the directness of his words removing him from his reverie and bringing him back to reality. Daichi forces himself to stand, to make his way around the circle and try not to focus too hard. _If I can just keep my mind somewhere else,_ he thinks. _If I can just get through these next seven minutes without doing anything stupid, we’ll be alright. We will be._

 

Sugawara opens the door to the closet and walks inside, arms folded in front of his chest, and Daichi follows with a lump in his throat. He can’t swallow. His lungs feel heavy.

 

The door clicks shut, and at once, they’re trapped in darkness.

 

They’re very quiet for a minute. He can hear the shallow breath leaving Sugawara’s lips and he wonders if he sounds the same.

 

“Daichi,” he says suddenly. Daichi blinks, and through the darkness, he can see the shape of Suga shifting his weight uncertainly from one foot to the other. “Um,” he tries again, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

 

“I know,” Daichi sighs. It feels better to speak than to remain silent, pretending like there’s nothing left to say. In fact, it’s the opposite; there are too many things Daichi wants to tell him, all at once, and they keep fighting against one another in a rush to be heard… But he can’t say them. He can’t, not when Sugawara is so close, and they’re alone, and there’s nothing stopping him except the fear of getting hurt. The fear of hurting _him_.

 

“But,” Suga murmurs sadly, “I’m glad it was you.”

 

When Daichi inhales, his lungs ache.

 

“It was almost a relief,” he continues. “I don’t think I could have gone through with it… if it were someone else.”

 

“We don’t have to do anything,” Daichi tries ruefully. “We can sit here and– and wait for the seven minutes to be over.”

 

Suga breathes, hangs his head. His eyes are staring down, fixed on his shoes. With one hand, he reaches across his chest to grab his other arm, dangling by his side.

 

“Is that what you want?”

 

He’s not sure. Daichi isn’t sure what he wants, because need and want are seated on blurred lines and the longer he stands here with clouded vision, he finds it so much harder to tell the difference. _You’ll hurt him,_ he thinks, and then, as though being stabbed right through his chest, he closes his eyes. _You’ll hurt yourself._

 

“No,” Daichi says finally, and when he opens his eyes, his hands, balled up into tight fists at his sides, loosen. He takes one step forward, and then another, and then one more. He’s filled with painful certainty. Even if he fucks this whole thing up, even if he’s forever guilty of going through with the one thing he promised himself he’d never do – at least for tonight, he won’t regret missing his chance.

 

Daichi’s hands search for him in the dark. It doesn’t take long for Suga to catch Daichi’s in his own, to lace their fingers together and, with a shaky breath, to bring the back of Daichi’s palm to his lips. He watches in awe, eyes slowly adjusting to the dark; he’s moved to silence, eyes darting across Sugawara’s face as he kisses his calloused knuckles, fingertips, palm, wrist. He presses Daichi’s hand to his cheek, stops to look into his eyes, lips parted and waiting, and then–

 

“Please,” Sugawara whispers – and when his voice breaks, Daichi wraps him in his arms and tries to remember the way their mouths used to fit together.

 

Suga lets out a small sound of surprise, but it is almost instantaneous the way his arms reach out to wrap around Daichi’s neck, to bring himself closer, to press his lips harder.

 

That burning Daichi had felt the night before was nothing compared to the sudden flames that ignite, coursing through his veins every time his skin touches Suga’s. His mouth is soft, and Daichi’s sure his own lips are chapped, rough, the very opposite of the porcelain nature of the boy in his arms. Where Suga is delicate, Daichi is stone, unfinished granite that’s sharp and gritty and hard to hold – but Sugawara manages anyway.

 

The boy pulls back quickly for air, resting his forehead against Daichi’s. He can feel warm breath against his lips, intoxicating him.

 

“I didn’t think,” Suga starts, but his words are broken. “Didn’t think… I would be able to hold you like this again.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Daichi whispers, and he presses his lips to the corner of Sugawara’s mouth. “I’m sorry.” Daichi peppers his jawline with hot, open-mouthed kisses. “I’m sorry.”

 

With an arched back, Sugawara cranes his neck upward and holds as the kisses travel down to his collarbones, letting out a shaky breath as Daichi’s hands pull up the hem of his shirt. He bunches the fabric in his fist, and with one palm flush against the small of his back, he holds him to his chest.

 

“Koushi,” he breathes.

 

It isn’t long after that he hears it, feels the salt in his hair and feels the sudden shaking in the boy’s shoulders. Daichi pulls away and looks back at him. His eyes search Sugawara’s face, reading him like an open book. He charts the teardrops that start to trail from the corners of his eyes, collecting on his chin before falling down, down, down.

 

“Suga,” Daichi chokes out, “Suga, I’m…” But he can’t find the words. His thumbs wipe at Suga’s eyes, palms hiding the tears already shed. He’s shaking. “I’m such an idiot,” he chokes out, “I’m such a fucking idiot, Suga, I shouldn’t have done that, we shouldn’t be–”

 

“Stop,” the boy manages, now wiping his own eyes. “It’s not your fault. I’m– I’m just… I’m a mess without you.”

 

The silence overtakes them, and for a minute, Daichi allows himself to rest his head in the crook of Suga’s neck. Even still, even now, he can’t find the nerve to pull himself away; he’s so warm, and even as his shoulders tremble with the promise of fresh tears, Daichi swears he feels Suga’s hands tighten their hold on him.

 

“I can’t go back out there,” Suga whispers.

 

Daichi nods. “We can leave,” he offers.

 

Suga shakes his head. “No, you can stay. I don’t want to make you leave. I just can’t… ah, my face is probably a mess.”

 

Daichi lifts his head and, pushing the last few tears away, his hand reaches down to find Sugawara’s. “Come on. I’ll walk you.”

 

The timer hasn’t gone off yet. Instead, they slip quietly out of the closet before anyone realizes they’ve gone, and as they loop around the hall toward the front door, they find their shoes and jackets and let themselves out.

 

 _“Taking Suga home, he doesn’t feel well,”_ Daichi types out to Asahi, then slips the phone back into his pocket. The night air is chilly now, though it’s expected, as far as springtime weather goes.

 

His first instinct is to again take hold of Suga’s hand, and had it been a normal night, he might have fought the urge. Tonight is different though, and so Daichi’s hand finds Sugawara’s and they walk together in silence.

 

“It’s my fault,” Daichi finally manages to say as they pass under a streetlight. His eyes watch the ground, like he’s afraid to look anywhere else.

 

“No it’s not,” Suga argues. “It’s both of us.”

 

He nods – Sugawara’s right. It wasn’t just Daichi’s fault, even if he was the one to throw away everything he’d worked toward keeping locked up, every longing. It wasn’t only his fault, because it was Suga who hadn’t tried hard enough. If only he had Daichi’s will – but he’s not strong the way Daichi is; he’s strong in his own right, but not like this. Keeping things a secret, holding back on what he really, truly feels – Sugawara has never been good at things like this.

 

He squeezes Daichi’s hand. “I know you leave in two weeks,” Suga says slowly, “but you really don’t think we could make it work – not even a little?” He’s holding out hope something will change Daichi’s mind, and he wants it to. So badly.

 

“I don’t know. Long-distance is something I’ve never done,” Daichi says quietly as they start up the steps of Suga’s house. He waits on the second step, keeping hold of Sugawara’s hand like he doesn’t want to let go, even as he takes the third and fourth. Their arms stretch between them, but neither Daichi nor Sugawara breaks their hold.

 

“Then how do you know it won’t work?” Suga sighs. His eyes are still wet. “If you’ve never tried…”

 

Daichi doesn’t say anything. Instead, when Suga takes the fifth step to the porch, and when Daichi has to decide whether to follow him or let go, his feet decide for him.

 

He holds on tighter, takes the third. Then the fourth. Then the fifth.

 

Suga’s eyes are wide. His mouth falls open only slightly, and he looks up into Daichi’s face like he’s seeing him for the very first time all over again. Staring. Waiting for an explanation. Holding his breath and waiting for the punch he knows must be coming – because falling in love isn’t easy, and for every moment of bliss, Daichi has made sure to give Suga a hundred moments more of agony. Daichi can see it in his face before he opens his mouth to speak, how he’s hurt him so much more than just this night.

 

He sees it in his eyes, that it’s pretending they never felt anything at all that hurts him.

 

And with one slow, deep breath, Daichi knows what he has to do.

 

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmurs – and when he does, he can see it. Like sun and moon both combined in one, Sugawara’s eyes light up before his eyebrows furrow, before his cheeks flush a warm crimson, before his face crumples.

 

“Don’t cry,” Daichi begs him, hands finding their place at his neck, fingertips keeping their gentle hold along his jawline. “Please, Suga…”

 

“I’m just getting emotional because I’ve had a long day, alright?” he says, suddenly defensive. “I’m not usually this sappy.”

 

“You’re practically melting,” Daichi laughs softly. “I think if you keep this up, you’re going to turn into a puddle.” He presses a kiss to Sugawara’s temple, then pulls away again to reexamine the state of his face. Tears still cloud Suga’s vision, and Daichi feels that tug again in his chest. “I’m not good at this sort of thing,” he says, his voice now only just above a murmur. “But I know I don’t want this to end.”

 

“It doesn’t have to,” Suga sniffs, palms now firmly tucked at the corners of his eyes. “I’ll try if you say you will, too.”

 

Daichi sighs, brows pulling together. “Suga…”

 

He pulls his hands away, sniffing once again loudly, and with severity in his eyes, he reaches out to grip at Daichi’s jacket. “If you can’t, then you can’t. But you don’t know that you can’t, so don’t…”

 

Daichi sighs, trying to argue with himself, trying to talk sense to his heart, but the resolve he usually has is slipping away with each passing moment. It’s all because he’s wrong – Daichi is so many things, but he’s not a quitter, and forcing himself out of something he knows is good, and healthy, and right… it’s not fair.

 

“Okay,” he decides finally.

 

Sugawara huffs. “Say it like you mean it.”

 

This shifts something inside of Daichi; he throws his head back and laughs loudly, and Suga shushes him by pressing a finger to Daichi’s lips because _don’t you know you’ll wake up the whole neighborhood with a laugh like that!_

 

“Alright, alright,” Daichi reasons, laughing once more, quietly, for good measure. “I’m leaving. Two weeks, and I won’t be back ‘til the semester’s over.” He pauses, closing his eyes briefly as he takes a deep breath, and when he lets it out, one of his hands moves from Suga’s neck and tangles in his hair.

 

“But I’ll call. You can stay with me there, weekends – come and see me play. And if I can… I’ll try to come back home.”

 

Suga is hesitant before he says anything. “Do you mean it? I can’t tell – because I know I told you to say it like you meant it, but… but now, I can’t tell if you’re just saying what I want to hear or if you’re honest.”

 

Daichi swallows. It’s a promise he’s making now, and even though he knows he shouldn’t make a vow this important if he isn’t sure he can keep it… well, he does it anyway. Because the line between want and need isn’t a division anymore. It doesn’t really exist, if it ever did in the first place. Want and need are the same, and right now, all he wants to do is make this time with Suga count – like the calm before a storm.

 

“I mean it,” he murmurs, bends his neck downward, and catches Suga’s lips with his.

 

“You’re sure?” Sugawara asks him, speaking softly against his lips.

 

Daichi pulls away, squinting and tilting his head a bit as he does so. “You think I’d keep kissing you if I wasn’t?”

 

And that’s how he knows.

 

With a smile, Suga’s hands find the collar of Daichi’s jacket and pull him back down, catching his lips again – and despite all else, despite internalized fears of endings, despite how badly he wishes there were an easier way…

 

Daichi decides that this is one sea he’ll brave – just as long as Koushi is there by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> i promise you it wasn't supposed to be this emo *sniff sniff* oh well, there's my contribution,,, b ye


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